Kingdom of Deceit

By Roberto Ricci

Asheva must learn to survive on his own and put aside his age-old Black Nation hatred for enemy Red Chromes. As he makes his way to the Red city of Samaris, his convictions about the Red clash with the reality of a land divided into castes. There, the Janis, members of the lowest caste, are left to live in abominable conditions. But turmoil is building, both inside the walls of Samaris and outside where a violent attack takes the Reds by surprise...and nothing in all of the Territories will ever be the same again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dreamscape Media
• Release date: Apr 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781662013881

Roberto Ricci

Roberto Ricci is an author who specializes in novels, short stories, and screenplays. He is best known for The Red Harlequin series, which has been translated into four languages and has been adapted into graphic novels.

Book preview

Prologue

Our world is different from yours.

It is a world divided by colors,

Where we wear masks in public to hide our true faces and feelings.

The color you belong to defines who you are and where you will live.

Chromes of different colors never intermingle.

That would be like trying to mate a sheep with a wolf.

And then there are the Harlequins.

I know well, what is true and what is not, about Harlequins.

I have met one and lived to tell my tale…

11. A New Destiny

If you have followed me this far wayfarer, then you know my name is Asheva and that I am a Black chrome. More than a solstice has passed since I left my native city of Axyum. The sweeping changes that forced me to travel to different territories until I arrived here in Everdia, the city of the Greens, were many. But let the God of Time take me back to that moment when everything I had learned about the territories was shattered by the confession of Chtomio, the Harlequin I befriended. And when through his words, I discovered that fate had indeed made curious plans for me.

Unite the Territories? That’s impossible! I said.

From the way he replied, it was clear that Chtomio had not expected me to embrace the idea.

It’s the only way chromes will ever be able to live in harmony with each other. Think, Asheva, how many times must the Blacks and the Reds go to war? How many lives must be torn apart by the death of a father or a son? He paused to let this settle, knowing that our losses tied us together.

But every chrome is different! I said, with utter certainty. You can’t unite territories that have been separated since the dawn of time. I thought for a moment about what would happen if opposites like the Green and Black were forced to live together. The very idea was inconceivable to me. It’s unnatural, I added.

I didn’t say it would be easy, the old chrome replied. It would mean finding a way to show everyone how chromes of different colors can be united without sacrificing their different cultures. It would take one powerful gesture.

Such as?

Chtomio spoke in a low voice: A long-lasting peace treaty between the Black and the Red, one that would replace war with trade. Take this for example …

He produced a pouch of salt from his robe and placed it in front of me.

Even in times of peace, it’s no secret the Blacks use the Yellow to buy the salt from us Reds. They are too proud to ask us directly.

I did not know that, I said.

Nor did you know, I am sure, that your sacred forest keeps the Blacks isolated from the rest of the territories. Why else do you think the Blues have such power over trade?

I thought again about the Harvest Faire and how it was full of chromes of every color, except the Black. As if reading my mind, Chtomio said: You have to ask yourself who in Axyum gains from such isolation?

I burst into nervous laughter. You really are a Harlequin! I said. The idea of Blacks allowing any Red chromes to walk freely in their forests would never happen. Everything divides us.

He took a moment and looked at me. What is everything? he asked, quietly. What is nothing? Are they not the two extremes of the same world? The Black and the Red have fixed territories. If the two had the courage to combine, all the others would soon do the same

This was pure nonsense to me. The Elders in Axyum would never agree to such a thing. You said it yourself, they’re so corrupt they’d do everything they could to obstruct the truth.

Which is why we need an eldest with the courage, the integrity and the vision to challenge the old ways; someone who can influence others.

Good luck finding him, I scoffed.

Chtomio raised an eyebrow at me.

It took me a full moment to realize what he meant by it, so ridiculous was the very notion.

Me? You really have taken leave of your senses!

Chtomio nodded and smiled. Quite possibly.

How can I be an Eldest? I haven’t even reached my sixteenth solstice. And I’m a wanted chrome.

"Never underestimate the deceiving power of the masks. I have known elders that were only a few solstices older than you are now.

I knew from my own experience that Chtomio was right. The ‘Eldest’ that came to our house was certainly not as old as I’d expected him to be. Nevertheless, he was still a lot older than me. You’d be surprised at how many times elders have been killed in their prime, during a struggle for power, he continued, as if reading my mind.

How do you know so much about the Blacks? I asked.

Information gathering is an art among Harlequins, Asheva. It’s what we do.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether he was mocking me or being serious. But forget about all of that for now. We must build a shelter for the night.

Now it was my turn to teach Chtomio a thing or two about forest craft. He thought the beach would be a good place for it, but I assured him it was too exposed and windy. I told him how my father had spent so much time with me hunting in the Eastern forest, how he had passed on to me all he knew. I did what he would have and chose a site to build a simple lean-to among the pine trees.

We found a place close to a stream, by a pair of trees two body lengths apart, with space enough between and behind them for both of us to lie down in. As we set about our work, Chtomio told me that he would not be staying with me. I was to stay on my own in the forest.

I couldn’t understand it at all. What am I going to do here, alone? Why can’t I come to the Red kingdom with you?

Because Blacks are still regarded as our enemy.

So I’ll wear a Green’s mask. If the aura of our chromes really doesn’t exist, no one will find out.

It is out of the question, said Chtomio. Just like in other territories, the Green aren’t welcomed in the city of the Reds.

I argued with him as we chose a sturdy log to serve as my shelter’s transversal beam and heaved it in to place. My body still ached all over and Chtomio had to do more than his share. We managed to tie the log crosswise, about six feet above the forest floor between the two trees, using rope from Chtomio’s cart.

What about if I traveled with you as a Red, then? I asked.

You know nothing of our ways, he said. You’d be uncovered as an imposter.

I could at least try, I said, now more curious than ever. I have mastered the ways of the Green so I can certainly learn those of the Red. I said this half in jest, but I sensed Chtomio was hiding something from me, something important.

Enough, Asheva, he said. When the time is right you will be able to visit every territory with your head held high and with nothing to fear from anyone.

You are fooling yourself. There will never be a right time, I sulked.

We continued with our work, chopping down two straight young trees. I shaved off their limbs, tying one end of each to the transversal. Their opposite ends touched the ground, so that the whole now formed a triangular frame. We worked mostly in silence, only conversing to gather materials and thinner branches to lash between the two angled beams for the lean-to’s roof. I tied them tight with a clove hitch knot, the way my father had taught me. Then, I lay down inside the shelter to test its height and length. When I saw that I didn’t touch any of the back beams, I showed Chtomio how to weave long, flexible thin pine branches through them all, way down to the ground. Their pine needles acted like shingles and we layered them on a foot thick, until I had a solid, insulated, waterproof roof.

Chtomio was impressed with my skills.

I’m pleased to see how clever and resourceful you are, despite your condition, said Chtomio. Seeing how his praise did nothing to lift my sour mood, he continued, but your Black pride will not help you in time of need. You must learn to be humble and astute. The time you spend alone here will help me teach you a thing or two.

So it’s a Rite of Initiation?

The path I have in mind for you is worth ten rites of the Black nation, he said.

It amazed me how much he knew of us Blacks.

So why can’t I begin? I asked.

You are, he said. The first step is to become independent. That is why I must leave you.

Already? I mean, right now? I